Closing the Bar
by Trinity Everett
Summary: "Undercover. I like it. You might want to pop one more button just in case." Her fingers still at his words, his offhand statement. He expects her eyes to flash in teasing defiance, in challenge, the way they would've a year ago. Not this year. - What if Last Call happened in S4? Posted for CastleFanficMonday


Prompt: anonymous asked: Hi, I don't know if you take prompt now, but if you do, I saw this prompt on castlefanficprompts and wondering if you could fill it (bc i love your fics!) : 3x10 happened in season 4. When Castle challenged Beckett to "pop one more button", she hesitated because of the scar. Castle realized what he asked and feel bad about it. post link: castlefanficprompts post/121143485606

 _Anon, I don't even know if you're out there anymore, but if you are, I hope you enjoy this._

 _Happy Castle Fanfic Monday!_

 **Closing the Bar**

* * *

He's an idiot.

Things had finally started feeling like old times, like they hadn't spent weeks and months apart last summer, like they hadn't been relearning one another through tentative baby steps. And then he had screwed up by opening his mouth.

Stupid.

Somehow, he had forgotten all about the scar. For the briefest of moments, as she had fluffed her hair and loosened the collar of her shirt, he had actually forgotten that she carries the physical reminder of taking a bullet.

 _"Undercover. I like it. You might want to pop one more button just in case."_

Her fingers still at his words, his offhand statement. He expects her eyes to flash in teasing defiance, in challenge, the way they would've a year ago.

Not this year.

Instead of taking the bait, calling his bluff, and opening her shirt to give him a better view of her lacy bra, she leaves it at that. She squares her shoulders and marches ahead, down the worn steps, and into _The Old Haunt_. The solid oak door opens and closes before his feet cooperate, allowing him to follow her.

To say he's kicking himself is an understatement.

"Beckett," he tries once he's inside, stepping close behind her. "I didn't –"

"Not now," she stops him with a short shake of her head. "Later. Just, not now."

"Okay," he agrees, watching her shoulders lower with the assurance that he isn't going to press the issue right now in some blundering attempt at fixing things.

"Okay," she murmurs, looking around the room, back on mission already. "So is your favorite old bar everything you remember it being?"

His eyes follow hers, taking in the stained glass lights, the dark wood, the booths lining the walls, the tables haphazardly arranged in the center of the room, trying to see it the way she is. "Exactly the same," he says, pulling a deep breath into his lungs. "This is how a bar should smell."

"Mmm, yeah. Stale beer," she drawls, glancing over her shoulder at him.

Well, that part's not the best. But everything else? It's what it should be. "You know, I would write in more bars if there were more bars like this."

Beckett lifts an eyebrow. "Do you write in any bars?"

"Not currently, but if more were like this place, I would start again."

Her eyes roll, but reluctant amusement turns her lips toward the ceiling. "Of course you would."

His shoulder lifts. He'd had nothing but good experiences sitting in the booth at the far end of the room with his notebook open and his pen poised to capture the story of the people around him. He wouldn't mind revisiting that sometime. "It makes for a nice change of scenery from my office. That's all."

Something soft, thoughtful, passes across her face, but it's gone before he has the chance to ask what's she's thinking.

"There's Brian. Come on, Castle," she says instead, already on her way to the bar, her hips swaying with every step.

* * *

"About the other day," she begins two nights later, circling her fingertip around the rim of the single glass of Beau James's scotch she's been nursing all night.

They're practically the only ones left at _The Old Haunt_. There had only been a few patrons in the bar when they arrived, and a few hours later there are even fewer. The rest of the gang has gone home already – Ryan begged off first, promising to bring Jenny the next time they go out, and Esposito and Lanie had followed (together, interestingly enough) just a little while later – leaving Castle and his partner to sink deeper into the worn vinyl seats of their booth.

Rick shakes his head, not wanting to relive his gaffe once again. "You don't – I shouldn't have said anything. It was insensitive, and I'm sorry."

Beckett shakes her head, swiping her tongue over her lips. "I… I don't want that to be all you see, Castle, or all I see," she confesses. Her eyes lift to his, brilliant emerald even in the dim light from the stained glass fixtures. "So if you managed to forget it, or to look past it, then I'm actually kind of glad."

"Kate," he murmurs, watching her dip her chin to hide the rosy flush of her cheeks. She's beautiful, she's so beautiful like this.

"Anyway, I – just don't beat yourself up over it, okay?"

His head bobs. "Okay."

"Okay." Her lips lift after a moment. "After all, I'm sure it's not the last time you'll say something ridiculous."

He chuckles, raising his glass in concession. "No, probably not."

Kate's smile deepens as she accepts the toast, knocking back the last of her drink in one long sip. "Kinda glad about that, too." She inhales, brushing her knuckles over her chest, the gesture absentminded yet still thoughtful. "Now… you wanna get out of here?"

Rick's tumbler hits the table with a dull thud. She's not… is she? "Get out of here… as in…?"

His partner slips out of her seat, lifting their coats from the hook on the side of the booth. Her head shakes, but she doesn't roll her eyes, or tell him he's entertaining the thought of something that's never going to happen. "As in walk me home, Castle. Come in for some coffee. I'll even spring for a midnight snack if you're hungry."

He nods, getting to his feet without a word. His fingers curl around the wool collar of her coat, taking it from her hands and holding it open for her. Kate hums her thanks, slipping her arms through the sleeves before turning to wait for him.

"Ready?"

Giving the bartender a nod to indicate that they're leaving, Castle turns back to his partner. "Lead the way, Beckett, and I will follow."

Instead of doing just that, she loops her arm through his, looking up at him with a shy smile. "Why don't we walk together instead?"

His face splits on a grin, fingers curving over hers as they make their way to the door. "Even better."


End file.
